Chapter One
Langston
I fucking hated college. Whoever decided we needed even more education after high school deserved to have their face bashed into a wall. It was expensive, and on top of that, the course load was insane. I spent more time doing assignments these days than I did sleeping.
That seriously couldn’t be healthy.
I slid out of my car and beeped it locked before heading over to the elevators. I, thankfully, lived in a building that had a parking garage attached to it. Seattle was wet and rainy all the damn time, it felt like. And I got sick of constantly walking to and from classes in the dreary weather.
I pushed my hand through my blonde strands and hit the button to go up. Someone’s boots making their way across the concrete had me turning my head, only to lock eyes with someone I never thought I’d see again.
Cove Jackson.
We’d gone to high school together, and I’d made his life hell. He came out of the closet in middle school, back when I was still confused and trying to figure out my own sexuality. And then, when I finally figured out that I was gay, I was already seeing the hell some people gave Cove for being out and proud about it.
I’d locked my sexuality up in a shell and faked it all through middle and high school. And then, I joined in on all my friends giving him shit for liking guys.
I’d been a right douchebag.
He paused in his stride, his blue eyes widening when they landed on me. I swallowed thickly at the sadness residing there, sadness that he couldn’t hide, even if he wanted to. He tightened his smaller hands into fists before shoving them into his jacket pocket and looking down at his feet, his curly, black hair falling forward, concealing any bit of his face I might have been able to see.
He was so small. He stopped growing back in seventh grade, and honestly, his size was so adorable. I’d always found him cute, and I’d always crushed on him.
But God knew I’d never get a chance with him after everything that I had put him through.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t lift his head, nothing. I got nothing from him.
Guessed that was what I deserved.
I swallowed thickly, hating my younger self more than ever. It had been two years since we’d graduated high school, but obviously, I had left my mark on Cove—a mark that may never heal. And I fucking hated that I’d been part of the shit that happened to him.
The elevator doors slid open, and we both walked inside. I pressed the button for the seventh floor, but Cove didn’t move to push a button. I frowned. “Aren’t you going home?” I asked him.
“I live on the seventh floor, too,” he said quietly, his voice small. Everything about him just made me want to wrap him up in my arms and never let him go. I wanted to heal him and help put all of his broken pieces together, but how did someone who helped break you put you back together again?
“Oh,” I whispered. I didn’t know what else to say. How long had he been living here, and I hadn’t known about it? The thought that he might have been living here a while without me knowing really bugged me.
We stepped out of the elevator, and I was surprised to see him open the door directly across from mine. I clenched my jaw, hating myself. Was I so fucking self-centered and oblivious to shit around me that I hadn’t even realized Cove lived right across the hall from me?
I wanted to say something, but Cove slipped inside his apartment and shut his door before I could even open my mouth.
I pushed my own door open and shoved it closed behind me, leaning back against it. I scrubbed my hands down my face before letting them slap back down to my sides.
I was going to fix this. I hated the sad look in his eyes. It ripped something apart inside of me. And God, everything about him made me want to wrap him in my protective embrace and shield him from the world.
But would he ever let me?
I frowned. Well, I wouldn’t know unless I tried.
I moved toward my kitchen and began making a small casserole. I could take it over to him and try to make amends. Food was a good start, right? And I was good at cooking it; it was my favorite food—broccoli, cheese, chicken, and rice—and I was hoping that Cove would like it, too.
After putting it in the oven, I got a shower and then dressed in a pair of sweats with a plain black t-shirt. I then settled on my couch and scrolled through social media. It wasn’t long before I found myself typing Cove’s name into the search bar.
He hadn’t had social media in high school. I would know since I was a loser who bullied him during the day and tried to stalk him at night. But would he have one now? He had to be in college, right? He was pretty much a freaking genius. It wouldn’t make sense for him not to be.
Did he make new friends when he moved here to Seattle? And what made him move here? Did we go to college together, or did he attend a different school near here?
